


I'll Bring Back Your Love In Seven Days

by thelastolympian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Friendship, Magic, Rituals, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26013985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelastolympian/pseuds/thelastolympian
Summary: When the fickle finger of fate decides to pull some strings, Hermione Granger finds herself before a muggle-fortune teller. After seven days, she has indeed reunited with her ‘lover’ — just not the one she expected. And as the time goes by, Hermione is even more caught up in the midst of him. Will she finally relinquish her logical self and let love lead the way?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 59
Kudos: 118
Collections: HMS Harmony Discord Writing Fest - Jily Meets Harmony Challenge





	1. Bewitched, Bothered And Bewildered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the HMS Harmony Discord Writing Fest - Jily Meets Harmony Challenge. 
> 
> Must include:  
> 1\. James/Lily and Harry/Hermione strictly.  
> 2\. James and Lily must be alive. Either by surviving Halloween, coming back to life, or their canon deaths never happening/being avoided. (Can include either Time Travel or a Canon Divergence event)  
> 3\. Sirius should also live and be free/exonerated.  
> 4\. Lily must at some point braid Hermione's hair.  
> 5\. James and Harry must at some point fly together  
> 6\. Harry cannot have a Boy Who Lived (Or Wrong Boy Who Lived) sibling.  
> 7\. No Jily bashing  
> 8\. Include the requirements and description of the challenge in an Author's Note.   
> ____________________
> 
> Hello! This is my unexpected entry to the HMS Harmony Challenge. Inspired by some Brazilian culture traditions. Hope you like it! Please review with your opinion.

“So you’re saying that this is actually a thing in Brazil?” Hermione asked, flabbergasted by what Clarissa just said. 

“It is! I mean, no one really _believes_ that it works and most people do it just for laughs, but some are that desperate. They see it as their last resort.” 

Clarissa was her former co-worker in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She came from Brazil three years ago and quickly proved herself as one of the most efficient employees in the whole ministry. 

She immediately broke down Hermione’s walls with her graciousness, humor, and intelligence. She’d proved to be an amazing roommate as well, besides the fact that she _always_ left her wet towel lying around their flat. 

They still lived together, but while Clarissa was now the front-runner to become the head of the DRCMC, Hermione had been called by Kingsley to move to the Department of Mysteries. She had yet to become an Unspeakable, but had already started working on her first assignment: Brazilian Ancient Rituals. 

And that’s how she’d found out about the tarot ritual that apparently brought your loved one back to you in the span of three days time. 

Except it wasn’t exactly a _ritual_. It was more like a...ceremony invented by muggles in a desperate attempt to fix their failed relationships. 

Whatever its origins, however, it seemed promising and would serve Hermione well. She had just broken up with Oliver Wood, captain of Puddlemere United, and hadn’t gone on a date ever since. 

Things with Oliver had started out as a mere fling but had evolved into something more. It started at an afterparty during the Quidditch World Cup. A couple of firewhiskeys in and some small talk, and soon enough she was kissing the former Hogwarts Gryffindor Captain. Their romance went on for a full eight months, but he decided to end things after a rather unpleasant family holiday. 

Her parents always felt left out of her life, which increased significantly after the war. When she rescued them and restored their memories, the first weeks were rough. There had been a lot of bad blood, tears, and remorse, but they were able to work it out. 

When she showed up at Christmas dinner, however, with a boyfriend that had absolutely no connections with the muggle world besides dating a muggle-born witch, things hadn’t gone smoothly. 

He wasn’t a pureblood bigot, far from it. But his fascination with the smallest muggle things and the fact that he couldn’t hold a conversation with her parents for more than 2 minutes without slipping quidditch in, or making comparisons with the wizarding world didn't help their acceptance of him. Oliver didn’t mean to remind them of how different Hermione’s world was, but it definitely struck a nerve. 

She wasn’t pining like a schoolgirl, but she missed being in a relationship. She never thought of herself as a romantic, but after being looked after and having someone to return to when she got home from work… Hermione felt lonely. 

“I wager it’s like a love potion, then?” she asked, drinking her butterbeer. 

“No, because it doesn’t work. It’s a muggle thing, Hermione. I have never been to one, but there’s this Brazilian fortune teller here in London that I’m willing to visit, just to see how it is. It’s a shame that in all of my twenty-six years living in Brazil I’ve never been to one.” 

“And what are you going to do there? You don’t have any lovers to bring back, as far as I know.” 

“Well, that's true. But this isn’t the only service that she has to offer. Besides, that’s why you’re going with me. You _do_ have a lover that you wish to bring back.” Clarissa said with a smirk, sipping her own butterbeer. 

“I’m _not_ going to use magic to bring Oliver back to me. It’s _wrong_. Did you know that Riddle’s mother used a love potion to get together with his father? Amortentia. The side effect of a potion-based relationship is the absence of true love. I’m sorry, but I’m not trying to mother the next dark lord.” 

“Woah, woah, woah. Let’s stop for a moment here. How did we get from visiting a muggle fortune-teller to being pregnant and birthing the next dark lord? _Misericórdia, mulher._ ” Clarissa put her cup on the counter and put her hands on Hermione’s shoulder blades. “You’re seeing problems where there aren’t any. It’s a _muggle_ thing, Hermione. Don’t be a prude. It’s just for laughs, come on! You’re in desperate need of some.”

Hermione tapped her nails against the counter, contemplating what her friend had just said. It had been a while since she’d done anything without a care in the world, instead of just burying herself in work. And it’s not as though this was too far from her line of work. She was researching Brazilian rituals, after all. Her consciousness could deal with that. 

“Fine. I’ll go with you. But I can’t promise anything about using any of her services. I will be an observer, for research purposes only.” 

Clarissa squealed and hugged her friend. “Yay! We’re gonna have so much fun, _amiga_!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled at her antics. “So, when is this appointment?” 

“Let’s go tomorrow. And don’t try to get around this and delay because I _know_ you don’t have anything for tomorrow night. We'll leave the ministry together and apparate to an alley nearby. I’ll call the number that was on the flyer after lunch.”

“Do you have it here?”

“What?” 

“The flyer?” 

“Uh, yes. I didn’t have anything with me to copy the number, so I made a copy of it. It’s somewhere down here, wait.” Clarissa started searching in her purse- on which Hermione had cast an undetectable extension charm- and finally found the flyer. “Here.”

“ _MÃE_ _MARINA_

_BRINGS YOUR LOVE BACK IN SEVEN DAYS.”_

“How did you get that flyer again?” Hermione inquired, analyzing the paper. “It looks odd.”

“Of course it’s odd, Hermione. She's a liar. And I discovered her because my aunt Patricia went to the fortune teller's mother, Sandra, back in Brazil. They were chatting and the woman said her daughter was working in London and was a hit.” 

Hermione continued to wear a skeptical look and then sighed in defeat. 

“Don’t be late. I don’t wish to waste too much time on this.” 

“You’ve got a deal, sister.” Clarissa winked and stood up. “See you tomorrow.”

— • — 

Hermione and Clarissa were on the doorstep of Mãe Marina, holding hands to fight off the sudden nervousness. 

Hermione scolded herself for being silly before raising her knuckles to rap on the door. “Okay, I’m gonna knock on the door on three. One, two..”

“The door is open, ladies!” A female voice hollered from the inside. The two women startled, sharing equal looks of astonishment, trying to think of how she could possibly know they were at the door. 

Hermione blinked twice and started looking around her surroundings, finding something that looked like a hidden camera behind a plant jar. 

“Of course.” She rolled her eyes, beating herself once more for thinking this woman actually had some kind of power. 

They stepped into a room that could have doubled as a Hogwarts greenhouse if you ignored the intoxicating blueberry incense and the blue lighting. 

“Come in, come in!” The voice said again, this time in a lower tone. “The first door to the left.” 

They followed the path, being guided by a caramel coloured dog. The door was open and the room wasn’t very different from the first one. With yellow lighting and red and purple curtains all over the place, this one looked like Sybil Trewlaney and Pomona Sprout had decided to combine classrooms for a lesson. _Creepy_. 

“Oh, welcome! Have a seat, my friends.” A young woman with long jet-black hair with whelks in her braids said. “My name is Marina, but you can call me Mother Marina or Mãe Marina - it depends on your stylistic choice. But if I’m being honest, Mãe Marina has a special mystic flavor to it, don’t you think?” 

The woman suddenly stopped and realized that she was getting lost in her character, due to the sudden change of tone in the next sentence.

“Be ready to start the search for the unknown! Discover what the future and the cosmos have prepared for you and clean yourself from the bad energies from the ones that envy you. And most importantly, bring your loved one back in seven days. - I must warn you that we don’t work with necromancy or any kind of ritual to bring back the ones who have departed from the realm of the living. Understood?” When both women nodded, she proceeded. “Great. But first, we need to discuss what the procedures are that you two intend on doing today and how you’re going to pay for it.”

Mãe Marina smiled and Hermione was trying her absolute best not to snicker. She decided to leave the answers for Clarissa, which proved to be a terrible idea later on. 

“I want to do a palm reading.” 

“And what more?”

“Nothing more, thank you.” Hermione smiled at the disappointment in the fortune teller’s face, which lasted about three seconds. “And what about your friend over there?”

“I’m not in need of any of your services, ma’am. Thank you.” 

Mãe Marina smiled and joined her hands, resting her face on top of them, surprising Hermione. 

“Oh, dear… I can tell that’s a lie. You’ve been suffering in the past weeks… and this is related to your love life. I can feel it in your aura that there’s something there.” 

Both girls were left speechless, with Hermione gulping audibly and Clarissa smiling in disbelief at what had just happened. This woman was good. 

“I can’t see how my love life relates to any of your services. Let’s go, Clarissa. This is hogwash.” Hermione stood up and grabbed her purse, stopping when her best friend called her name.

“Hermione…” the brown-skinned girl stood up and took Hermione by the arm to the door. “One second.” 

Mãe Marina just nodded and smiled, still resting her face in her hands. 

“Don’t fret over this. She’s just a muggle that made an assumption and you fell completely into her trap with this little show. You promised that you would give it a try just for laughs.” Clarissa whispered and Hermione had the decency to look down at the floor. “Come on… you are way too stressed. Let it go.” 

“Fine. I’m sorry.” 

“That’s my girl.” Clarissa smiled and they both returned to the table, sitting on the chairs while Mãe Marina admired her own blue-painted nails. 

“So?” 

“What do you suggest, Mãe Marina?” 

“Well, I can do a ritual to bring your love back in seven days. It’s a must for our clients and will do wonders for you.” Both girls nodded, already expecting this answer. “However, I’ll have to accept the payment in advance. You see, it’s a very tiring ritual, and right after I have to be alone in my room to align my chakras.”

Hermione almost rolled her eyes but stopped when she felt a pinch on her thigh courtesy of Clarissa. Her eyes clearly said _‘Shut up. Don’t get us in trouble._ ’ They nodded again and Mãe Marina made the arrangements for the payment - via credit card - with Clarissa, while Hermione stared out the window. 

“Now dear, give me your hand.” 

Mãe Marina proceeded with an intricate look at Clarissa’s hand, passing her fingers along the lines and stating some obvious things. 

“You come from a foreign land far away from here. You work a lot, you have a strong personality, you don’t have any trouble in your love life and will have a very long life. Great things await you, my dear. But don’t get too hooked up in your job, it won’t do much for your health or your beauty.”

For the love of _Merlin_. How could anyone fall for the tricks of this woman? A couple of minutes- which Hermione used to think about what she had to do tomorrow at the Ministry - and some babbling nonsense later , Mãe Marina was finished with Clarissa. 

It was her turn now. 

“I can see a raven-haired man in your path, my dear… is he the one you wish to bring back to your life?” 

Absently, her mind flew to an image of Harry Potter, her long-time friend, smiling upon her in the Hogwarts grounds near the Black Lake. It was a sunny day and the light made his eyes shine so much that it was absolutely impossible to not get caught up in him. 

Harry was in Chile at the moment, finishing an internship at a St.Mungo’s branch there to learn some foreign techniques and apply them in the British magical hospital. She hadn’t seen him in months. 

“Dear?” Mãe Marina asked while Clarissa had a smug smile on her face. Hermione awoke from her trance and blinked a few times. 

“Sorry, what?” 

“She asked if you wanted a raven-haired boy back in your life, but I guess you got too caught up thinking about Oliver to listen to anything we said. So?”

“Oh, Oliver. Right. Yes, I guess so.” 

Mãe Marina arched her eyebrow but didn’t say a thing.

“Right. Are you ready?” Hermione nodded, still high from the scene that had unfolded in her mind about Harry. Why did she think about him that way? “I’m going to walk around you with this incense and chant to ask magic to bless our purpose. Then, I’m going to roll the whelks and finish the ritual asking for him to come back to you. Understood?” 

“Okay.” 

And so she did. The incense was intoxicating and she was almost hallucinating, with a flash of scenes going through her mind a mile-per minute while Mãe Marina started her chanting. She was speaking in her native language, but Hermione was too dizzy to notice anything. Flashes of yellow roses, honey, bees, bright sun, and a strange green sea flooded her senses and her breath caught in her throat. 

It was almost like she was being touched by magic itself, something so ancient and powerful that she had never experienced before.

Suddenly she felt like she was embraced by heat around her torso and was surrounded by the same feeling you got when you come back home after a long journey-- cozy and intoxicating that she couldn’t even begin to understand what was happening around her. 

She heard the whelks being rolled around the table and Mãe Marina asking magic to align the chakras and restore the path of her love, which honestly still sounded like a bunch of Hogwash. But how was she feeling all of this at once? It couldn’t be magic, she was a muggle woman. 

_“Que os búzios do coração trilhem o caminho para sua vida ter de volta paixão.”_

All of a sudden the room became still again and Hermione was breathing hard, trying to get her head around what had just happened. 

“Hermione? Hermione?” Clarissa was kneeling by her side, trying to help her best friend. “Are you okay? What did you do, Mãe Marina?” 

“I..I-I don’t know! This has never happened before. I think she may be allergic to the incense or something, but it’s over now. Here take-“

“Thank you, but I think I better head home with this one.” Clarissa said and stood up, holding Hermione’s hand. “Let’s go?”

The cinnamon eye girl nodded and stood up, finally feeling like she could stand still without tumbling to the ground. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t forget to rate my work on FortuneTellers.com with 5 stars! Remember that I’m not 100% sure that your love will come back, but I did my best. Wait seven days and in the next seven, the effects will get in action. See you around!” Mãe Marina rushed them out the door and went back to her room, checking her mobile to see that the money had gone into her bank account. 

“Não tenho ideia do que acabou de acontecer, mas a sua ração do mês tá garantida, Marcelinho!” the caramel looking dog ran to her arms while she kissed his head. 

None of them had any idea of what was to come next. Mãe Marina was about to bring someone’s love back for the first time ever, and it had nothing to do with her ritual. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you’re enjoying the story so far. Here’s the translation of some Portuguese expressions that I used on this chapter:
> 
> “Amiga” = Friend.  
> “Misericórdia, mulher” = For goodness sake, woman.  
> “Que os búzios do coração trilhem de volta o caminho para sua vida ter de volta paixão” = May the whelks of heart bless the path of your life and your love comes back to you.  
> “Não tenho ideia do que acabou de acontecer, mas sua ração do mês tá garantida, Marcelinho.” = I have no idea of what just happened, but now I have the money to buy your food for the entire month, Marcelinho. (her dog) 
> 
> In case you have any doubts, feel free to ask me. :)


	2. Blind for Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you to everyone who supported this story and took a little time to read it.  
> Thank you again to my amazing beta sonofahorcrux, you rock. Happy September 1st! Now let's go with the next chapter.

_8 months ago_

The sun was bright in the sky as the head of the DLME, James Potter, zoomed through the sky with his son, Harry. It was a hobby of theirs that never failed to drive the red-haired witch standing on the ground into near cardiac arrest each time the broom took a dive, but she had learned to cope with it. 

Her secret? Don’t pay attention to it. Forget that they are being inconsiderate, stupid, selfless prats, and focus on something else. This is why she was carefully drying and braiding her daughter-in-law’s hair after Sirius’ jump into the pool had splashed water everywhere and soaked the poor girl through. 

Well, not exactly daughter-in-law, at least not yet, but Lily was sure that someday it would be true. James said that Harry was blind when it came to love and just needed a...push. It wouldn’t be so much of an issue, of course, except Hermione seemed to share her son’s ignorance. She’d had to forbid her husband from interfering and attempting to set them up--no matter how much she secretly agreed with him. 

The young woman in question flinched as she watched the brooms zooming across the sky. Lily finished the braid and smiled at the scene. Hermione had the same look of adoration that she herself had when James played quidditch at Hogwarts - even if she tried to hide it from anyone else. 

Seeing something like this always made Lily grateful for the brilliance of one Remus Lupin. 

Their friend had come back from the werewolf packs in September, unbeknownst to anyone besides James, Lily, and Sirius. Remus had shown up on Sirius’ doorstep in the middle of the night. His sudden appearance had sparked a predictable fight, but an unbreakable vow had proven his loyalty and completely changed the game, not only for the Potters, but for the entire magical community. 

Learning that Peter was a traitor hadn’t been easy. The boy who had lived with them for months was their Secret-Keeper for the Fidelius that protected the house. That protected her _son_. 

Oddly enough, this proved to be the key point of their plan. Running away from the cottage and meeting Fillius Flitwick on the Gryffindor stands at 4 in the morning wasn’t in her plans, but if there was one thing that she’d learned from that night in September, it was that things were rarely what they seemed. 

They moved to the Potter estate in Portugal, but not without setting a trap for Voldemort first. Together, the four friends created an invisible ward around the house. The ancient spell, found in a Celtic book by Flitwick, served as the perfect trap for Voldemort. They transformed the house into a disguised ritual temple that wouldn’t let anything evil that entered stay alive. 

The ritual hadn’t been used in centuries due to its irreparable damage. The families from the light side couldn’t do this to their gray or even black allies, since the political machinations needed all of the sides in the spectrum to work. It wouldn’t do any good to get some Wizengamot members suddenly dead at your threshold. But Voldemort didn’t need their forgiveness, and that worked perfectly well for their plan. 

So when he and his Death Eater troupe arrived at the Potter Cottage on Godric’s Hollow, things got ugly. Their bodies had burned from inside out like they were being consumed by fiendfyre.

Britain had woken up to a new world, with the news rapidly spreading throughout the country. Everyone had learned how a werewolf, a goblin, a muggleborn, and two blood traitors had saved the magical world in one night. 

As she sat under the warm sun, carefully not watching her husband and son, Lily wondered how things would have turned out if they hadn’t done what they did. Harry shook her from her dark thoughts as she watched him get off his broom and walk towards Hermione with a grin on his face. 

By the time the cinnamon eyed girl understood what was happening, it was too late. Harry was sweaty and hugging her, pressing his body against hers. “Harry! You need to take a bath!” 

“Fancy going with me?” Hermione blushed furiously while her best friend sported a mischievous smile. 

Lily looked at her son's antics and turned to see James eyeing them with a lopsided grin on his face. He looked at her and arched an eyebrow. She smiled and shrugged. 

And after this silent conversation, they both knew that it was just a matter of time before Hermione was really family. 

_Present Time, 7 Days After The Ritual_

“ _Deve ser horrível dormir sem mim._ ” Clarissa said smugly when she noticed one of her ex-boyfriends looking miserable after seeing her at the restaurant where they were having lunch. “Hermione?” 

“Huh?”

Hermione wasn’t really paying attention and her brain wasn’t working well enough to understand the Portuguese that Clarissa inserted into their conversations sometimes - _“You have to learn at least some words, Hermione. I have to work my ass off to be bilingual, it’s only fair that you take a little effort as well.”_

“Sorry, I’m a bit off today.” She replied, prompting Clarissa to roll her eyes. 

To say that she was having a bad day would be an understatement. So far, Hermione had woken up late - something that never happened -, missed the first half of a meeting, and on her way back to her office, someone had thought it a good idea to run with a cup of coffee in their hand. The final result? Her white shirt was soaked and she was smelling like a strong black coffee. _Great_. She had cleaned herself as fast as she could and dropped by the restaurant where she was to meet Clarissa, but her mind wasn’t in the right place. 

“Yes, I noticed that. What’s on your mind?”

“It just seems that the world decided that it would be fun to make sure everything that could go wrong today, would. I mean, _come on_!” she exhaled, crossing her arms against her chest. 

“I think it’s a sign. It’s been seven days, right?”

“Please, are you still thinking about Mãe Marina?” Hermione scoffed, smiling as she remembered at the crazy lady’s antics. She was even worse than Sybill, the lunatic Divination professor at Hogwarts. 

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to wish for something unusual to happen today. My week has been boring as _fuck_.” Clarissa yawned as if emphasizing what just had been said. “No hints of a certain raven-haired boy coming around?”

And for the millionth in that week, Hermione didn’t picture Oliver Wood at the mention of raven-hair. Instead, she saw distinctive green eyes playing in her head. This time, the memory that hit her sent shivers down her body and made her close her eyes almost instantly. 

“Hermione? Geez, you’re really off today.” Clarissa called again. 

“Um, sorry,” she said, still a bit dazed by the nearly physical memory of Harry, sweaty and in his quidditch jersey, hugging her and making jokes about them taking a shower together. It was one of the last times she’d seen him before he flew to South America, and she missed him every day. 

In the past seven days, however, she was thinking about him a lot more. It was like her body and her mind were signaling that a piece of her was missing and they wanted to reclaim it. 

_‘Makes sense’_ , she thought. She never had been this far away from him in her entire life. In fact, the longest time she’d been without him had been the thirty days she’d spent in France visiting her grandma Even then, however, they had called each other periodically. 

“Yeah, anyway. I have to go now, and I need to visit Hogwarts to inspect something about an acromantula nest in the Forbidden Forest. Apparently, some moron thought it was funny to wonder in the Forest at night and barely made it out alive. _Eu mereço.”_

Clarissa stood up and took the Gringotts card to pay the bill. It was amazing how much the magical society had improved over the last few years - with a lot of effort from Lily Potter and Remus Lupin, of course. It didn’t hurt that Sirius Black-backed them completely and they were the most ancient magical family alive. 

Many muggle devices had been adapted for the wizarding society, much to the displeasure of pureblood bigots. Even they had to agree, however, that in order to avoid the statute of secrecy being blown, they had to catch up to the twenty-first century with the rest of the world. 

“Okay. See you later? I don’t have much to do at work today anymore, but with my luck, the beginning of a catastrophe will keep me at work late.” Hermione said, kissing her on the cheeks and bidding her goodbye. 

“I have a feeling that you’ll have a couple of surprises today and none of them will be a catastrophe, Hermione. _Tchau!”_

And with that, the Brazilian girl was out of sight, with quick steps toward the next apparition point, leaving a thoughtful Hermione at the table. 

As she sat there, the WTVN (Wizarding Television Network) began the daily exhibition of the Witch Weekly program, “Babylon” - a wordplay between the ancient wizarding civilization and the expression “babble on” -, that consisted of a round-table led by Rita Skeeter, while they broke the latest gossip and scandals in the wizarding world. She didn’t really pay attention most of the time, but the latest news caught her eyes. 

There on the screen was a full moving picture of Oliver Wood snogging some girl senseless outside a Quidditch locker room in Germany. 

Hermione sighed and felt a little weight lift off of her shoulders - whatever irrational reason had made her heart hold out for the ritual to work was out with the trash. Mãe Marina was a liar and Hermione’s logic proved to be impeccable again. 

After a couple of martinis to celebrate and the bill, Hermione left the restaurant content with herself, deciding to take a stroll out in London, and walk to the Ministry instead of apparating. 

She was so lightheaded while crossing the street, in fact, that she almost missed the car that almost ran over her. 

The only thing that saved her, or rather _who_ saved her, was a masculine hand grabbing her and pulling her into someone’s chest. A rather muscular chest, actually. 

The man was holding her close and his breath was erratic. Hermione could hear his heart beating like a drum and she finally opened her eyes. When she looked up to see who had saved her, it was her turn for her heart to start beating like a drum. 

“The first day I come back and you’re already trying to kill me, witch? I should’ve known I had it better in South America.” 

Her blood rushed to her ears and she couldn’t even think straight, facing those familiar piercing green eyes. 

Harry Potter was back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you for taking your time to read my story. I really appreciate it! :)   
> Here’s the translation of some of the terms in Portuguese that I used in this chapter:
> 
> “Deve ser horrível dormir sem mim” = It must be terrible to sleep without me. (Also a reference for one of the biggest songs in the country at the moment)
> 
> “Eu mereço” = I deserve it (in a sarcastic way)
> 
> “Tchau” = Goodbye.


	3. Heartbreaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I’d like to thank everyone for the support and give a special shout-out to my beta sonofahorcrux. You rock!

Hermione gulped audibly and blinked twice, trying to understand if it was an illusion or if Harry Potter was really back.

“What? You’re going to keep staring at me like this without saying a word? Not that I mind if you’re the one looking at me like this, but it would be nice to see that your vocal cords are still functioning.”

“Harry? Wha- what are you doing here?”

“Saving your life, I guess. Great to see that you missed me too, Hermione.” His face split into a broad smile as he continued to hold onto her, hugging her tightly and kissing the top of her head. She inhaled the particular scent of him as she smiled against his chest. “Of course I missed you, Harry.”

“Well, point for me. At least I didn’t risk my precious life for a snob.” Hermione took a step back to look at him and slapped his shoulder with a laugh. “I’m not a snob, you prat. I’m asking why you came back home and didn’t tell me. How long have you been in London? Have you gone home yet? How was Chile? When are you coming back to St. Mungos and-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down there, babygirl. I’m having dinner with mum and dad today. Come with me and I’ll answer all of your questions.”

“I still have to work today, Harry. I can’t possibly go now without even warning my secretary, but I promise that I’ll do what I can to-“

“Oh, fuck me. I haven’t seen you in eight months, you’re mine for the evening. Wait a second.” He intertwined his fingers with hers and they walked to an alley nearby and stopped near an alcove. “Expecto Patronum.”

The familiar silver stag burst from his wand and suddenly Hermione felt the same cozy feeling of the ritual, like coming back home after a long time away.

“Go to Remus Lupin.” the stag nodded and Harry spoke with a clear and deep voice. “Moony, Prongslet here. I captured your top employee and she’s mine for the evening. You may find her at Prongs Manor later, but I reckon you won’t be able to talk to her, since we have a lot of catching up to do, you know? Mischief managed.”

The cinnamon-eyed girl watched on with a mix of awe and amusement, not being able to hold back a smile at his antics.

“I can’t believe you did that, Harry.”

“Well, I just did. Fancy a side-apparition?” He turned to her, smiling and stepping closer.

“I think I can apparate on my own, you know?” She crossed her arms against her chest, nose upturned in mock-disdain as she teased him.

“Of course I know that. But if you remember, we spent eight months away from each other, Hermione.” Harry spoke with a dramatic emphasis, which made her roll her eyes and smile. “I want to have as much physical contact with you as I can to compensate .”

She shuddered unexpectedly - those pick-up lines had never made her feel like this before and she blushed at the change. “Okay.”

Harry smiled broadly once more and closed the distance between them, putting his arm around her waist, and bringing her as close as possible. She put her hands around his neck and he winked before turning on point and apparating to the Potter Manor.

**— • —**

  
“Muuuum! I’m home and I have a guest.” The raven-haired wizard called out as they passed the threshold, still holding her hand.

Lily Potter came from the kitchen with a rosé cooking apron tied up around her waist and her neck, and a wooden spoon in her left hand.

“Harry James Potter! You should’ve warned me sooner, i- HERMIONE!” She stopped in the middle of a rant when she saw the girl standing by her son, holding his hand, and ran to her, smashing the girl in a motherly hug. “Oh my God! It’s been what, four months since you last gifted us with your presence here?”

“Sorry, Mrs. Potter. Too caught up in work.” Hermione smiled sheepishly.

“Moony said the same thing. But I know that the real reason is his not-so-secret romance with Tonks. I mean, does he honestly think that anyone really believes they’re not seeing each other?” She rolled her eyes and put the wooden spoon on the table nearby, pulling up her hair in a ponytail. “He said you are so close to becoming an unspeakable, am I right?”

The young woman laughed it off and blushed at the remark. “Everyone knows they’re seeing each other. And, well… not that close, but I’m getting there. Currently, I’m working on research on some ancient rituals in Brazil, and it’s been quite an experience.”

“Oh! Brazilian magic is really ancient. I had a pen-pal from Castelobruxo during my third year at Hogwarts and she told me some fascinating stories.”

“Yes, yes, fascinating indeed. You might not have seen her in four months, Mrs. Potter, but I haven’t seen her in eight. I take priority. Besides, I’m her best friend. What you’re making for dinner?”

“Hahaha. Really funny, Harry. I’m making food. Actually, Farryn is the one who’s cooking. I’m just talking and doing a little something here and there. You know how possessive she is with her kitchen.” Lily smirked and took the wooden spoon again, turning to the kitchen. “Well, I’m off. Dinner will be ready in an hour or so, and hopefully, your dad will arrive on time.”

“Where is Padfoot?”

“Wooing Amelia Bones and trying to talk her into taking him back. He’s not coming for dinner, I think. Well, at least that’s what he said.”

“Thought so. Let’s go, Hermione.” Harry let go of her hand and Hermione felt the loss of contact immediately, but a second later he put his right hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the stairs leading to his room.

Harry’s room was big, blue, and beautiful. It was what you’d expect of a normal guy in his mid-twenties, except for the wall dedicated to Quidditch's accomplishments and brooms.

Even if he wasn’t the only child of the saviors of wizarding Britain, Harry would be famous. With a dazzling smile and the most hypnotic eyes on Hogwarts, the son of James and Lily Potter was a certified heartbreaker. The type of guy that strolls around with the confidence of someone who knows he’s attractive, and always has been. Put that in a cauldron with his humble personality, loyalty, and talent on a Quidditch pitch, and you have the British Dream Wizard.

The guys wanted to be like him and the girls wanted to be with him.

It was a recipe for disaster.

They started as friends even before passing through the platform 9 ¾ since they arrived at the same time and Lily insisted that he use the muggle entrance. From that moment on, they became inseparable.

In the second year, after a quidditch match in the rain that ended up with Harry in the infirmary for a week, Hermione stole the invisibility cloak from his trunk and went every single night to visit him, staying with him to anxiously watch his chest rise and fall in his sleep.

On the last night, Harry woke up and asked her to lay with him for a bit. With a reasonable argument that consisted of him saying that he couldn’t get himself to sleep anymore and her position in the chair would make her back sore, she agreed.

On that same night, they shared their first and only kiss. It was something innocent and totally accidental, that only happened because a bee flew too close to her face when he was about to kiss her cheek and she turned at that very moment.

A millisecond, but their lips had met. They never spoke a word about it, coming to the silent mutual conclusion that it was an accident, that should be forgotten.

Right at the end of their third year, Hermione had started noticing him as a boy, not just as a friend, but it was too late. He started dating a muggle girl in the summer, and the relationship lasted until the middle of their fourth year. He had made a surprise visit to her on Halloween and had caught her snogging a red-haired guy on the couch in her living room. He’d been devastated.

After that, Hogwarts’ girls practically attempted to jump on him, but he had deftly dodged them like bludgers. The only girl he had paid any attention to was Hermione, who was in the middle of a troubled relationship with Zacharias Smith, that ended with a black eye and a broken nose - courtesy of Mr. Potter -, when he tried to grab the young girl’s ass after their Potions class.

After that, neither of them had dated until graduation, but the rumors around the castle had always had them as a secret couple. Which had never happened, of course.

Somewhere along the line between their graduation and adult life, they had unconsciously started flirting with each other, but it never led to anything. Since he’d come back from Chile, however, things had been different.

It had only been an hour, she knew, but Hermione felt something was different. It was like something had clicked and she was finally allowing herself to blush at his remarks and he was more touchy than ever. This marked the first time since fourth year that she caught herself looking at him, looking at his body, and wondering what he had underneath that green shirt and a brown leather jacket.

“Come here, let me take a proper look at you,” Harry said, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking at her from her head to toe. Something flashed in his eyes and he smirked while taking in every inch of her. “Merlin, witch, how can anyone get that beautiful in only eight months?”

“Stop, Potter. Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Well, I have the most beautiful witch in town in my room, so I guess I’m on the right track.” She slapped him on the chest and they both laughed as he pulled her into a hug.

“I missed you so much, Hermione. You have no idea. The worst part of this trip was spending so much time away from you.” Harry tightened his arms aroung her and started kissing the top of her head, making her insides melt.

“I missed you too.” She inhaled his scent again and closed her eyes, trying to stop time so she could live in this moment, in his arms forever. It felt so right. “So, how has my favorite heartthrob spent the last eight months? You have to tell me everything.”

“Oh, so I’m your favorite heartthrob now? I guess I should’ve traveled sooner.”

“You have always been the only heartthrob in my life, Potter.”

“Good to know.” There was a pause and they left each other’s embrace, laying on his bed, side by side and looking up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry to hear about Wood.”

“Thank you.” She said with honesty. “I think it just wasn’t meant to be. It’s better this way.”

“Yeah.”

“And what about you? Any South-American witches that I should prepare to meet and interrogate in the next month?” She tried to lighten up the mood but it felt like a flat joke. What was going on with her? Why did the thought of Harry with someone else make her heart drop?

“Nah, nothing to worry about. Just some flings in the beginning, but I decided to settle down.” He snapped his tongue on his mouth and put his arms behind his head.

“You didn’t fall for the Spanish charms? I’m surprised.”

They both turned to look at each other and Harry put his hand supporting his head. “I’m hard to get, you know? Besides, I had my mind elsewhere.”

He stared into her eyes with such intensity that Hermione felt like her whole face was burning. The young woman looked away, unable to sustain such a piercing gaze.

“How was Chile? And when are you coming back to St. Mungus?”

“It was incredible. Just being there.. whoa. I feel like we put on rose-colored glasses here in Britain and forget what is going on around the world. They have so much to offer, Hermione.”

Harry spoke with such a passion when he started talking about his profession that even the most skeptical about his career choice would be convinced that he was where he should be. The announcement of a Healer’s Apprenticeship after graduation was a shocker, since everyone had expected him to take the seeker position forPuddlemere United and the National English Team. Everyone had supported him, however, including his dad, the quidditch fanatic.

“I can only imagine,” she nodded, instigating him to keep going.

“I had this intense course on healing burn victims, even using a muggle technique from Brazil. They use this fish, tilapia, take the skin off, and cover the burnings. This technique is used along with a special Chilean murtlap essence and the ‘Polar Tundrus’ spell, which makes the skin start looking like it’s brand new in the span of an hour. It’s insane.”

“What spell is that?” She asked with an arched eyebrow. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s an ancient type of healing magic from the native tribes of South America. Since they are mostly tropical countries, this spell was used to simulate the North Pole’s freezing temperatures and stop the victims’ pain. It’s like an anesthesia.”

Her eyes were glowing as she absorbed the knowledge he was imparting, which Harry found adorable. When Hermione noticed his smile, she blushed furiously.

“What?”

“Come here.” He laid down with his eyes on the ceiling again and patted his chest, making the young woman crawl to his side and snuggle into his side, resting her head on his chest.

“You promise that we’ll never let go of each other again?”

“I promise.”

They stayed in bed, doing nothing more than feeling each other and smiling like fools. Their reverie was broken as James' familiar deep voice come from the stairs.

“Kids, dinner is ready! Don’t make me go into the room and see things that I’d rather live without knowing!”

Harry rolled his eyes and Hermione laughed against him. “Your dad is just like you, incorrigible,” she muttered.

“It’s part of the Potter charm.” He winked and got out of bed, extending his hand to her. “Shall we, Miss. Granger?”

“Why of course, Mr. Potter.”

And when Hermione Granger laid her head on her pillow that night, drifting off to sleep, she saw flashes of whelks on the beach and a rather handsome man with a boyish smile looking at her.

She didn’t have any nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know your thoughts on the story by leaving a review! Thank you for reading another chapter. =)


	4. The One

“Got the keys to your flat?” James Potter yawned, stretching his back at his son’s answering yawn. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

Harry grinned at his father's antics before a curiously blank expression crossed his face as he looked away to stare at the blue wall in his father’s office. 

“Son?” The youngest Potter in the room let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. 

“Dad, how’d you know that Mum was the one?” 

The unexpected question made James adjust himself in the chair to better see his son. It had been a long time since Harry sat down to talk about something as serious as love, and the Potter patriarch had an idea of the reason behind this.

“When I laid my eyes on your mother, I knew that something about her was different. She was a muggleborn with no signs of being intimidated with the wizarding world, and to see someone stroll through the halls of Hogwarts with such confidence was something that immediately got my attention.”

Harry had a pensive look on his face and James smiled fondly at the memories of his years at school. 

“At first I had this idea that I needed to conquer her, no matter how sharply her tongue cut me down. I was on a mission. Your mother wasn’t a witch that gave me the time of the day, you know? And I have to admit, I was a little too presumptuous for my own good. Lily was a force of nature that walked a tightrope between loving and confident, and I started to realize that I felt something more for her. I knew she was the ‘one’, and I’m assuming you’re talking about marriage here, when I fell off my broom in the last quidditch game of the season at Hogwarts. I woke up in the hospital wing to her stroking my hair and singing me a lullaby...I never felt so loved before. And I realized that I couldn’t live without her by my side from there on.”

“I... I mean, did you ever consider her just as a friend?” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, feeling uncomfortable. 

“At one point. I gave up on my cheap romance schemes and decided that I would try to be just a friend first. It worked because I don’t think your mother would’ve given me a chance if I hadn’t pulled my head out of my arse and tried to get to know her first.”

“So you stopped liking her just to be her friend?”

“No, of course not. I always liked her, but I put my feelings aside to know her better and start a friendship. And as it hurt me to even think about giving her up, I knew if she couldn’t be my girlfriend, then I would like for her to be my friend. But things just… happened. We started flirting with each other and it just went naturally from there.”

Silence filled the air between them for a moment and Harry let out a sigh in defeat. 

“I am really screwed, right?” 

“Why’d you say that?” James asked, suppressing the grin that was threatening to appear on his face. 

The younger wizard gave a pointed look at his father, rolling his eyes right after. “You know very well why, Dad.”

“In what I can say is a rare phenomenon, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the Potter patriarch answered, trying to mask his amusement with a blank expression on his face. 

“Hermione.”

“What about her?”

“We are friends of course, and I had some feelings for her during our time at Hogwarts. But there were some things in the way that didn’t help and it ended up not leading to anything. I feel like sometimes we start flirting with each other and it’s ok, because I mean, why not?” He was gesticulating wildly and talking without pause, a sure sign of his nervousness. 

“Keep going.” 

“Since I’ve been back from Chile, something feels different. I want to be with her all the time and it’s as if my feelings only grew stronger while I was far away. I think she feels the same way, although she has a new weird blushing habit whenever I unconsciously make a move. The thing is… I don’t know if I want to keep going like this. I want to be with her. And I definitely don’t want to have a front row seat if another guy comes around and breaks her heart.”

This time, James had a full smile on his face. “It seems to me that you have the answer to all of your problems already.” 

“I’m afraid that if things between us don’t work out, I might lose her forever,” he confessed worriedly , looking down at his lap. James stood up and walked towards him, patting him comfortingly on the shoulder. 

“Harry, listen to me. The worst thing that you can do in your life is waste time, grow old, and realize your life is full of ‘what ifs’ and scrapped possibilities. Your bond with Hermione is way too strong to be broken if things don't work out between you two. I don’t even think that's possible.”

“You’re saying that I should ask her out?”

“Why not? You’ll never get to heaven if you’re scared of going high.”

— • — 

Meanwhile, some floors above, Hermione Granger was finally handing over her research over Brazilian Ancient Rituals to her boss, Remus Lupin. 

“...And I added some extra notes about Boitatá fire and how it could be used to destroy pieces of dark magic, like Horcruxes. I was waiting for a response from a colleague of Mrs. Potter’s pen-pal in Castelobruxo, and you can find her quotes in the appendix. There was just a little problem with the cleaning waters from Caxambú, but I’m sure I can delve into it sometime later and-“

“It’s okay, Hermione. This is already more detailed and thorough than I expected. And while I appreciate your hard work and thoughtfulness in reaching out to so many people, you need to relax. Harry has been here for four days and you’ve barely spent time with him, which I know you’re dying to do.” Remus gave her a skeptical look when she opened her mouth to argue, which made her open and close her mouth comically without making any sounds. 

“Fine. I want to spend more time with him, but the weekend is right around the corner and-“

“I’m giving you three days off, starting today. Your assignment is completed. For Merlin’s sake, you need to  _ relax.  _ You have nothing to do here until I call to introduce you to the unspeakable committee.”

She stared stubbornly at her boss. She was trying her best to look defiant, which only made him laugh. 

“There’s no need to make a scene, Hermione. You know it won’t work and I believe that you are the brightest witch of your age for a reason.” 

Hermione blushed at his remark and Remus gave her a fatherly smile. He was very attached to the young woman and often thought about her as a daughter. She was a constant presence during the Potter holidays and had hit it off almost immediately with him, talking for hours and hours about books and school projects. 

He‘d been absolute delighted hearing Harry mumble to himself about how“stupid” Zacharias Smith was and how he’d “never be enough of a man for her”. Not to mention that time Remus had come upon Harry kicking his football against the wall and saying that he should’ve “made a move on her after the hospital wing kiss”. 

All of these remarks, however, he kept to himself. Harry always was supportive of Hermione and never put on the jealous guy facade with her. Remus didn’t think that those pieces of information were the type to be spread around like wildfire. 

“Thanks, Remus,” Hermione said, finally surrendering. “But if you need me to go over anything, don’t hesitate to call me, whether by Patronus or by mobile.”

“I’m pretty sure you won’t receive any calls from me, Hermione. This work is terrific. Enjoy your little holiday and send my regards to Harry, will you?” 

“How are you so sure I will see Harry during this holiday?”

“You two are inseparable. Besides, there’s an eight-month gap dying to be filled. But forgive me if I made a wrong assumption, my age might be finally catching up to me.” Hermione was looking skeptically at Remus who looked far too innocent before she burst out laughing. 

“Nice try, Lupin.” 

With a wink, she left the room. Collecting her things and heading to the elevator, Hermione Granger failed to notice how magic was meddling with her destiny. 

Ever since the visit to Mãe Marina, things had started happening, but no one around her had enough knowledge to link those unexpected events. Magic, after all, wasn’t in control of anyone. Just a little push here and there to create  _ possibilities,  _ but that didn’t mean that whenever a door opened, someone would enter. 

It was all about chance, and a boat full of it was about to reach the shore. Or it was an elevator?

— • — 

Harry was getting impatient. Everyone in the ministry apparently decided to take the elevator at the same time and he was the last on the destination list. He diligently resisted the urge to use a bubble-head charm, which he knew would have made Lily Potter proud. He could almost imagine his mother scolding his teenage self for attempting something similar in one of his many visits to his father's office. Luckily, he was a grown wizard and had learned a few spells that he put to good use when the elevator cleared. 

As soon as the door opened, he was stepping out smelling as good as when he first arrived at the ministry. His way, however, was blocked by a certain witch. 

“Oi! Be more careful, you could cause someone a couple of injuries walking like that!”

The smirk that adorned his face when they made eye contact was inevitable. 

“You have some nerve to say something like that to your great savior, don’t you? If I remember correctly, it is because of me that you’re not at St. Mungus right now, Ms. Granger.” 

“Prat!” She tried to glare, but failed miserably. A gorgeous smile took over her face instead. “What are you doing here?”

“I was about to head into your office, actually.” He realized that they were still blocking the elevator door, and took a step back. “My lady.” 

Hermione entered the metal box, pushed the button, and stood beside him, stretching her back. He didn’t fail to notice how her work attire kissed her curves and immediately started a battle in his own head. He could almost see the demon and angel arguing over his shoulders on whether he should make a move or not. Too late, he realized he’d been staring directly at her and shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“What?” She asked with a slightly humorous tone. “See something you like, Potter?” 

Any other day this remark would be received with a cheeky response and flirting that wouldn’t go anywhere, but the conversation with his father was playing on a loop in his head. 

His palms started to get sweaty, the skin in the back of his head was getting hotter and he gulped not once, but twice. 

Suddenly, the voice of James Potter echoed on his head.

_ “You’ll never get to heaven if you’re scared of going high.”  _

Calling upon every drop of the supposed Gryffindor courage that he had, he finally answered. 

“In fact, I do. Very much.” 

Hermione smiled and was about to retort with another cheeky remark when she saw the look in his eyes. His gaze was strong and she felt a wave of electricity go through her body. 

Harry’s green eyes were darker, shining with lust. Exactly like the green sea that she’d seen during the Brazilian ritual. 

“A-and what are you going to do about it?” Her mouth was dry and she licked her lips convulsively.

“Hermione…” Harry took a step closer and suddenly she was up against the metal wall of the lift, her breath catching as her desire for him grew. He inhaled the scent of her neck, making the cinnamon-eyed woman shiver. 

“Harry…”

“What do you want me to do?”

He heard her gulp as his trimmed beard tickled her cheeks. 

“Please…”

“What, Hermione?” His courage was beginning to shake inside and, Merlin be damned if he had just screwed years of friendship up by making a move. But it was now or never. 

“Kiss me, Harry.” 

It only took three words for his right hand to end up in her hair while the other one was pressing her waist against his. At that moment, Harry knew she was the one. Her mouth tasted like honey and his blood was rushing hot and fast inside his veins. 

When they broke apart for air, panting and gazing hotly at each other, Harry decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He found the pulse point in her neck and started to kiss his best friend all over. 

When her hands found their way underneath his shirt, he wasn’t thinking anymore. To hell with ex-girlfriends and her stupid ex-boyfriends. At that moment, he was so happy that even Draco Malfoy could have shown up at his doorstep and he wouldn’t have given him a glare. 

The world consisted of him, Hermione, and their bodies against each other. She cupped his chin and made him look right into her eyes. 

“Harry, wait, we can’t do this at the minis-“

Then the elevator door clicked and opened. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello everyone! First of all, i’d like to thank you guys for every review, kudos, bookmark, follow or whatever. I am extremely happy that someone is actually taking a bit of its time to read something that I am writing – I can’t even put into words. I hope you are enjoying the story so far. Also, I would like to thank the most amazing of the betas: sonofahorcrux. Thank you SO MUCH for everything. This story wouldn’t be the same without you. See you soon! :)


	5. Love Hangover

“ _Harry, wait, we can’t do this at the minis-“_

_Then the elevator door clicked and opened._

“Hermione! I haven’t seen you in years! Oh Harry, you’re such a gentleman.. I’m glad you’re helping Hermione get those wrackspurts out of her head. Terrible, aren’t they? I, for one, had an infestation at home a couple of weeks ago.. thank Morgana that I don’t have that Crumple-Horned Snorkack in my living room anymore..”

Luna Lovegood, oblivious to the elevator couple’s obvious embarrassment as they turned as red as tomatoes, continued ontalking dreamily about wrackspurts and fantastic beasts. 

“Err.. good to see you too, Luna.” Hermione said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible while she fixed her hair. “Yes, thank Merlin that Harry was helping me with those wrackspurts… terrible things, indeed.”

Harry, fighting the urge to laugh, covered his mouth with one of his hands, and earned an icy glare from Hermione. 

“Yeah, sure… wrackspurts.” Harry managed to cough out, voice hoarse from his suppressed laughter at what had to be one of the most awkward situations of his life. “How are you, Luna?” 

“I’m doing great! Newt Scarmander offered me an apprenticeship course over the summer, so I’m pretty excited about it.” 

“That’s great, Luna. Congratulations!”

“Thank you! Well, I better get going, I have some papers to fill out in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.” She stepped into the elevator and was about to press the button when she turned around and asked. “Will you two continue snogging in the elevator? Personally, I don’t mind, I think it’s very romantic. But I don’t want you to think that you have to stop just because I’m here.”

Hermione fervently wished that a hole in the ground would open up and just take her body to the underworld. She hadn’t thought she could turn a deeper shade of red, but Luna’s comment proved her wrong.

“Oh lord…” she muttered to herself. “We-“

“..thank you for the offer, but we have to get going. Good luck, Luna!” Harry interrupted and dragged her out of the elevator by her hand. When the door clicked shut and Luna was nowhere to be seen, he burst into laughter. 

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms against her chest. “I don’t know what’s so funny to you.” 

“Oh, Hermione, come on! It’s Luna!” when he noticed she still hadn’t moved an inch, he put his arm around her shoulders and looked directly at her face. “There’s no need to be angry. She lives in her own world, it’s very likely that she won’t tell anyone. And you have to admit that it’s funny how she goes from innocent oblivion to ‘too direct for her own good’ in a matter of seconds.” 

“Fine.” She grumbled, loosening a little. 

“Any regrets?” 

The weight of his gaze and the serious undertone in his question made her look right into his green piercing eyes. Drinking in the sight of his glittering eyes, Hermione answered slowly. “Absolutely no regrets.” 

“Dammit, witch! I want to kiss you right here and now.”

“And may I ask what’s stopping you?” 

“Well, even though Luna found my method of kissing you in an elevator to help you remove wrackspurts , I don’t agree.” He smiled playfully and ran his thumb across her cheek. “We deserve a proper date. May I take you for a ride, Ms. Granger?” 

“Certainly, Mr. Potter.” Harry winked at her and kissed her forehead. 

“Just a minute.” 

He left her and turned to the street corner, leaving Hermione to her dazed contemplations. She hadn’t had time to wrap her head around what had just happened, and was absently touching her swollen lips with her trembling fingers. 

How on earth had that happened? She’d been waiting for this for an obscene amount of time, but her mind unconsciously had moved this particular fantasy to the _“never going to happen”_ box. And now she was standing right here, grinning like a fool, and acting like a schoolgirl after her first kiss. Was it normal to feel like you had butterflies in your stomach after a kiss?

Then she remembered. The only time she had ever felt that was in second year. Their kiss in the hospital wing. 

It was a mere touch of lips, but that scene had replayed in her head over and over again, to the point where she could close her eyes and see everything exactly how it had occurred. Now, though, she had a different memory to replay, and it felt quite surreal. 

Before she could continue with ser musings, Harry came back smiling and playing with some keys in his hands. 

“Shall we?” He nodded his head to the left, pointing to the red Harley-Davidson parked on the street. 

“What?!” Hermione squealed. “Where did you get that?” 

“I learned how to drive one of those babes in South America. Sirius got me this one as a welcome-home gift.” He grinned and took a step closer in her way. “You can always hold on tight to me, you know? It’s like riding a broom.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Come on, I promise I will take care. After all, it wouldn’t be my smoothest move if I let anything happen to my girl on our way to our first date together,” he winked, handing her the black helmet, and donning his. 

She couldn’t even think of anything to say--her brain had frozen at Harry calling her his girl. Hermione’s mouth opened and closed multiple times before she gave up and put the helmet on her head, climbing onto the motorcycle behind him. 

“Ready?” Harry started the bike and turned to look at her face. 

“Just go already, Potter.” She smiled and encircled her arms around his strong torso, feeling his muscles beneath her fingers. _‘This is going to be a long ride.’_ was the last rational thought she had before Harry started the motorcycle and drove them into theLondon traffic. 

— • — 

The last thing Hermione Granger expected when she had been holding onto Harry Potter as if her life depended on it, was a complete picnic as their final destination. 

They were in a large field with trees, dandelions, yellow roses and birds flying high in the blue sky. The lake nearby had a wooden pier attached to it, where a picnic table was set. She recognized the place, but the memories were a little blurry in her mind. The only thing she knew was that this was one of the many Potter properties across Europe. 

“Where exactly are we, Harry? This seems familiar,” Hermione murmured, taking in the beautiful sight as she got off the motorcycle and took off her helmet. Harry noticed the brown locks of her hair shifted to gold with the sunlight as they flowed around her with the wind. 

“It’s my mother’s getaway. Dad bought it for her after the stressful Halloween of 1981. It’s their little ‘honeymoon’ place, but we don’t come here very often--that’s why you don’t know it very well. But we have some pictures at home in this same field, so you’ve probably caught some glimpses of it.” 

The place was absolutely gorgeous. She closed her eyes and felt the sun kissing her skin, the warmth of the wind tickling her cheeks. It was peaceful and it felt like... home. 

She felt strong hands encircling her from behind and Harry’s scent filled her nostrils. She inhaled deeply, smiling lazily. 

“What do you think?” He asked, his deep voice filling her ears and making the hair of her neck stand straight up. She almost purred in response, but restrained herself to answer. 

“It’s beautiful.” Hermione opened her eyes and turned to face him, brown meeting green. “How did you come up with this so quickly? Was your plan from the start to seduce me in the elevator?” She teased.

“You know how I am, always prepared for a bird.” She slapped his arm and he chuckled in response. “I’m kidding, Hermione. I.. I had a conversation with a very wise person, who opened my eyes and told me that I shouldn’t waste my time on ‘what if’s’ and to run after my dreams. I was on my way to your office when we bumped into each other and..”

“And then we kissed.” She finished for him.

“Well, yes.” He smiled. “And these feelings that I suppressed for such a long time surfaced… I.. I’ve loved you for a little too long, Hermione.” 

Her heart stopped beating. Was this real? Or it was all in her mind?

“I’ve always been afraid of losing your friendship if I confessed my feelings, but.. I guess what’s done is done. I already threw caution to the wind when I kissed you on that elevator, and I don’t regret it at all.”

His eyes sparkled with so much intensity that it was becoming hard to breathe. 

“And I asked Farryn to set up a little something for the two of us. Maybe we can… talk? Regardless of my ‘reputation’, I’m a bit rubbish at this stuff.” 

They kept staring at each other as words failed to come out of Hermione’s mouth. So she did the only thing that her brain could think of.

Harry’s lips were soft, was the first thing she noticed. This time, she savored the kiss slowly, playing with his raven hair. When their lips parted and they ended the kiss with small pecks, she rested her forehead against his own. 

“I’ve loved you for quite some time too, Harry. I-I tried to suppress it, thinking I would end with my heart broken-“

“Why would you think that?”

“I never imagined that you would like me that way, Harry.” She whispered softly, as if she spoke just a tone higher the moment would shatter.

“We lost so much time…” he caressed her cheek and the touch made her shiver. 

“Things happen exactly when they should, Harry. Maybe we wouldn’t have worked out if we had confessed our feelings when we were younger.” 

“I want this to work out. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I like you, Harry. Don’t forget that. We’ll be fine… just be good to me and we will be fine.” 

As Hermione laid in bed that night, drifting, she relived all the memories of the day with Harry. How had so much changed in just one week? It started off as Groundhog Day and then suddenly… 

She jerked from her bed, startled as everything started to click in place. 

_“...a flash of scenes going through her mind a mile-per minute while Mãe Marina started her chanting. She was speaking in her native language, but Hermione was too dizzy to notice anything. Flashes of yellow roses, honey bees, bright sun, and a strange green sea flooded her senses and her breath caught in her throat._

_It was almost like she was being touched by magic itself, something ancient and powerful that she had never experienced before._

_(...) ‘Que os búzios do coração trilhem o caminho para sua vida ter de volta paixão.’_

_All of a sudden, the room became still again and Hermione was breathing hard, trying to get her head around what had just happened._

_‘Wait seven days and in the next seven, the effects will go into action. See you around!’_ “

The voice of the fortune teller replayed in her head and panic started to consume her. Was it all an illusion? How? Harry came back exactly on the seventh day after the ritual. His eyes had a poignant similarity with a green sea. The kiss tasted just like honey. He took her to a field with bright sun and yellow roses.

It was exactly like the flashes in her mind. Her throat closed and she could feel a sob rise in her chest, but she couldn’t cry. She jumped out of bed and ran to the kitchen, where Clarissa sat, staring at the wall with a mug of coffee. 

“Oh, hi-“

“The ritual. I-it worked.” 

“What?!” Clarissa slammed the mug on the table, in surprise. “How? I thought Oliver was on the other side of the continent.”

“It’s not Oliver... It’s H-H-Harry. We confessed our feelings for each other and I think it’s all a lie.” She whispered the last part of the sentence, praying to any deity that existed that this wasn’t true. 

The tears finally started to spill from her eyes as Clarissa ran to her, and engulfed her into a hug. 

“What am I going to do?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I would like to thank my amazing beta @sonofahorcrux for putting up with me and taking her time to review my story. And lastly - but definitely not least – thank you SO much to everyone that is reading this story. I said it before and I will say it again: it means the world to me. To my guest reviewers: my day gets brighter with your reviews. Thank you! We’re reaching the very end.


	6. Slipping Away

Her hands began to tremble as another sob cut right through the thin air of their kitchen, while Clarissa talked on the phone. 

“Oxe… mas não faz sentido, tia! Você tem certeza que ela não é uma bruxa disfarçada?” Hermione heard a small humming coming from the phone then Clarissa sighed, in a sign of defeat. “Tá bom. Também te amo e tô com saudade. Xero, tchau!” 

Clarissa rubbed her eyes and tiredly rested her back against the counter. 

“What did your aunt say?” 

“She’s not a witch. Well, at least there’s no record of her in the Castelobruxo archives. I don’t think this is related, Hermione… maybe you had an allergic reaction to her incense and hallucinated.” The Brazilian woman rubbed the tip of her nose and closed her eyes, tired as a result of a sleepless night. 

“No, Clarissa! It was way too real… and it can’t be a coincidence. The dates, the signals… I-I..” Her rant was interrupted when her phone rang, the notes of _‘Murder On the Dancefloor’_ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor filling the room. It had been handpicked by Clarissa after a cautious analysis throughout the songs they had available--the previous ringtone had been too boring for the girl’s liking, and she had decided on an intervention. And she was about to do another one. 

“It’s him! Oh, Merlin, what am I going to say? I can’t, I-I have to break things up. I can’t fool him like this and.. oh his parents! What they’re going to think of me? I’ll lose my job and, and…”

Just as Hermione was about to break into another crying session, her flatmate decided she had enough. 

“SHUT UP! Shut up for a bloody second. I can’t even hear my own thoughts! Give me that phone.”

“But, but.. no!” She refused and Clarissa glared at her. 

“The phone. Now.” Hermione reluctantly handed her phone to her best friend and sniffled, crossing her arms and attempting a glare. _Attempting_ being the key word because she was sure she failed miserably, looking instead like a disheveled version of a 5-year old girl after a crying fit. 

“Hello! Yes, everything’s okay. She’s in the bathroom and her phone is in the kitchen, that’s why it took so long for me to answer it. Actually, she has some stomach pain and I reckon she won’t be able to go out today.” Clarissa shushed her with her hand and started to walk into the apartment. “No, there’s no need for you to come. The smell in the apartment isn’t the best one, amigo. Really, I don’t know what this girl ate yesterday. Anyway, don’t come here. I’ll take care of her and you don’t have to remember this… situation here as a remarkable moment of your relationship with her…. Yes, sure. I’ll call you if we need anything. Send my regards to your parents, bye!” 

“What the hell did you do?” 

“Saved your life. You can thank me later.” The Brazilian girl dropped the phone on the table and jumped onto the couch. “Hermione, listen to me: you went to Mãe Marina about two weeks ago. You have been friends with Harry for more than a decade. And-“

“Twelve, to be exact.”

“And this sexual tension...flirting, whatever you want to call it, has been going on since your teen years.”

“I guess...”

“Your relationship with him isn’t fake or manipulated, Hermione. It was already there… I just prevented a call that would have destroyed this new thing between you two. It is too new, too fragile, and you would have broken it over this silly overreaction. You always said to me to think with reason and logic, so please, I beg you: calm down. But if it eases your heart, give me two hours of sleep - that you could use too - and we can go after Mãe Marina to solve this. I promise.”

Clarissa yawned and summoned her pillow and blankets, arranging them on the couch. “And don’t you dare leave here without me, Hermione Granger. Because if you do, you will regret that decision for the rest of your life.”

“You look like Professor McGonagall.”

“Why thank you. I heard she’s a brilliant woman. Now, please, sleep.”

“Fine,” Hermione grumbled.

— • —

Four hours of sleep, a stack of toast, and two cups of coffee later, the two women were sitting in the living room discussing what they should do. 

“Okay, I get it, going to her is the easiest way to get some idea of what happened. But what are we going to ask? I can’t show up there and say _‘Hi! I don’t know if you remember me but your ritual worked, except you’re a muggle and I’m a witch, so this shouldn;t be happening. Tell me what you did or suffer the consequences’._ I mean… we need a plan” 

“We can obliviate her afterward,” Clarissa suggested while she sprayed perfume on her hair and neck. “It’s not like this is going to turn us into Lockhart.” 

Hermione snickered at the thought of her former professor. Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, made the mistake of hiring the attention-seeking blond as a special tutor for the seventh year, to _‘help them with the extremely exhausting NEWT exams’._

The dunderhead only lasted till’ Christmas. Fortunately, Hermione was in her third year by then and didn’t waste any time with his stupid classes. He tried to duel with Harry in an empty classroom, however. When the raven-haired wizard had won, Lockhart had gone absolutely bonkers and had tried to obliviate him. Fortunately, Lily Potter had walked by and stopped him. 

People say that to this day, he can’t walk properly. It was an unspoken rule: _no one_ messed with Harry Potter. Some people just learned it the hard way.

“No… we have to be prepared to defend ourselves, but I don’t think an obliviation is necessary. We just ask her exactly what she did and all the machinations that she uses for the ritual. It’s our only chance.” 

“You ready? Let’s go.” Clarissa turned in the spot and disappeared from sight with pop, Hermione following her a second later. 

The first thing that Hermione noticed when they apparated in the alley near the house was the flyer on the wall.

_“MÃE MARINA_

_BRINGS YOUR LOVE BACK IN SEVEN DAYS_

_976-BABE”_

“All or nothing,” Clarissa spoke behind her, looking at the flyer. 

“All or nothing,” Hermione repeated. 

As they walked to the front door of the house, Hermione’s heart was beating like a drum. She was being irrational, she knew it. Her brain had always followed the path of reason and logic, even in the magical world. 

Some even say this is the reason she didn’t go to Ravenclaw - she didn’t consider the bigger picture or a possible tangent. When books and logic failed her, she was left floundering, trying to find a possible explanation for what happened. 

But she wasn’t an emotionless person, very much the contrary. She knew that she loved Harry. And he loved her too. But the fear of playing with the unknown and meddling with the feelings of the most important person in her life was terrifying. 

Was it fear? Fear of, against all odds, the previous day being a product of the lowest of the magics: a love ritual. 

The two women looked at each other before Clarissa knocked on the door. 

After five minutes of waiting, nothing had happened. They decided to ring the doorbell and waited. Again, nothing. 

“Maybe she’s not at home... or maybe she’s sleeping.” Hermione tried to reasonably argue with Clarissa, who would have none of it. This time, she knocked on the door multiple times. 

“I know you’re here! You always see who’s coming by the camera. Open!” 

“Stop, Clarissa! She’s not at home, we’re just wast-... SHE’S RUNNING AWAY!” 

Mãe Marina was jumping through the window and running away from them, the whelks in her hair cutting the air with a terrible noise. 

_Clack, clack, clack._

Hermione and Clarissa went running after her. They chased the Brazilian fortune-teller as she narrowly avoided being hit by a bus and dodged a man in a blue bike, but lost her in the London traffic. 

“Merda!” Clarissa exclaimed and stomped her feet. “All of this for nothing.”

“It’s okay, Clarissa. Really. Thank you for helping and missing work for me today. You shouldn’t have.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t. But this is what friends are for. Come on, let’s get a drink.” She put her arms around Hermione’s shoulders and they crossed the street, entering a muggle bar. 

The place was aired and clean, with yellow lighting and white walls, with wooden details. They sat on the chairs on the counter and called for the bartender, ordering two beers. 

“God, I need a vacation.” The Brazilian girl said massaging her neck. “That’s it. I’ll wait for the promotion and then I’m off to the Bahamas.” 

The bartender brought their beers and they took a few sips in comfortable silence, broken by Hermione voicing her thoughts. 

“I wonder why she ran… I mean, there’s no reason for her to think that we would do anything with her.” 

Clarissa nodded and pointed her beer at Hermione. “Yeah, but I believe she thinks that we’re going after her because the ritual didn’t work. If she could only imagine…” 

Someone beside her on the counter started choking and accidentally spilled the drink on their sweater, running quickly to the women’s bathroom. 

The two friends looked at each other suspiciously and stared right where the strange woman had been--only a mobile was left. With a furrowed brow, Clarissa stood up and made her way to the bathroom, with Hermione right behind her. 

The large mirror on the lady's room reflected the picture of a very disturbed Mãe Marina, washing her face and mumbling to herself. 

“Não pode ser, não pode ser…” 

Hermione whispered to Clarissa, both of them still at the threshold. “What is she saying?”

“This can’t be real.” Clarissa whispered back. Hermione engines were rolling a mile per minute when it finally struck her. 

“You’re a squib.” 

Mãe Marina squealed at the sound of Hermione’s voice and turned to face them. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“What makes you think we’re going to hurt you?”

“Well, for starters, your friend there has her wand in her hand.” 

Hermione turned around and her eyes met with Clarissa playing with her wand between her fingers. 

“What? It could be a drumstick. She only knows because she’s apparently a squib. And I think I missed something here.” The Brazilian woman answered, closing the door behind her. “Care to give us some answers, Marina?” 

“What do you want? Why are you after me if the ritual worked? It never happened before, but…” 

“So you are a fraud,” Hermione replied. “I knew it!”

Mãe Marina rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, protecting her chest. “I’m still here.” 

“Enough, you two. Spill. What have you done?” Clarissa huffed and pocketed her wand in her hair, using it to make a ponytail. 

“I don’t know! I already said I don’t know. Look, I come from a generation of squibs. I can’t perform any spells or magic rituals. If anything happened, it wasn’t my fault.” She answered with honesty, resting her back on the white wall. “The question should be what did _you_ do during the ritual for it to work. I would like to know.”

“I didn’t do anything extraordinary. I did exactly as you told me. Well.. for the exception that I walked into your house with one person in mind and thought about another one when you asked me to.” 

“And the person that came back to you… was the one that you thought about during the ritual?” When she nodded, Mãe Marina looked pensive. “Well, that’s unexpected… have you had any past experiences with this guy before?”

Clarissa sniggered and shook her head in amusement. “You can say so, yeah.” 

Hermione glared at her and then looked expectantly at Mãe Marina. “So…? What you think?”

“Look, I’m not a specialist or anything, but I was very close to my great-grandmother and she was a witch. My mother rejected me for being a squib and well… we got close to each other.” Mãe Marina sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. “I resented the magical world for a while because it represented my mother's abandonment and the rejection of some of her family.”

She tied her sweater around her hips and started playing with the whelks in her hair.

“However, my great-grandmother took care of me and I was taught since my early years that I shouldn’t give up the magical world, but embrace and be aware of the dangers there might be for people like me. The first thing she taught was that magic is about intent.”

Neither Clarissa, nor Hermione, made any indication of interrupting the woman’s monologue, and she went on. 

“If you are able to practice magic, it’s because you have the gift, the tools, and the knowledge. But you can’t do anything if you don’t have the intent to cast that spell. With your situation, I don’t think you forced this man to love you or created a fake relationship. Magic is powerful and is alive. Magic is everywhere, rolling like waves in the air.” Mãe Marina snapped her fingers. “I believe that when you thought about this fellow of yours, magic recognized your intent as pure love. And as cliche as that may sound, pure love is what magic recognized in his heart too. There were situations, of course, but every situation happens for a reason. You don’t have any strings attached to manipulate you or your mind. You have options, and, unconsciously, in the last week you have walked the path that has led you and him to be together.” 

“But what about the visions I had during the ritual? There were flashes of a green sea, honey, bees, yellow flowers… and somehow our moments always had one of those elements.”

“Can I ask something?” When she nodded, the Brazilian woman proceeded. 

“Did you swim in a green sea?” 

“Well, you see, I think it was a metaphor because his eyes are in the same tone as the sea I saw and-...”

“Exactly. And you realized that only after all of that happened, didn’t you?” 

“Yes…”

“You had all these interactions with him not even thinking about the ritual. But suddenly you thought about it and tried to fit everything in a logical little box. It’s not like this. Magic is about possibilities. You could swim in a green pool, a green sea, wear a green dress, or look into his green eyes and then think of the possibilities that would fit the narrative you’re so desperately trying to fill. If you two love each other, believe it.” 

Hermione felt like she had been slapped. 

“Believe it and hold onto it with both hands. Everyone deserves to be loved and deserves to love. If he was so important that you both have pure feelings for each other, I don’t think you have to worry about it. But if it eases your heart, try to remember a moment with him that felt like the walls had finally shattered and you realized you both loved each other, even without professing that out loud. At that moment, magic may have recognized your feelings.” 

“I-I…”

Mãe Marina walked to her and put her right hand on Hermione’s left shoulder. 

“There’s no need to say anything. Good luck, Hermione. Do me a favor? Don’t fuck it up. You are the first and probably the last person that will come to me saying that it worked, and I’ll die happy knowing that somehow I was able to be somebody’s Cupid.” 

With that she walked out of the bathroom, leaving the two girls alone staring into nothing. 

“Wow.” Clarissa started, laughing in stunned amusement.

“I know.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello! First of all, to everyone that is taking your time to read this story and to those who are leaving reviews, following, bookmarking or whatever – you have no idea how much I appreciate that. Thank you. 
> 
> To my amazing beta sonofahorcrux: you are a godsend.
> 
> We have just one more chapter ahead and I’m having a lot of fun writing it. Now, the translation of some Portuguese sentences on this chapter: 
> 
> “Oxe… mas não faz sentido, tia! Você tem certeza que ela não é uma bruxa disfarçada?” = Oxe is a slang from the northeastern region of Brazil and it’s used when you don’t believe in something or find it very strange. The rest of the phrase is: but it doesn’t make any sense, auntie! 
> 
> “Tá bom. Também te amo e tô com saudade. Xero, tchau!” = Okay. I love you and I miss you too. Bye!   
> "Não pode ser" =It can't be. 
> 
> Xero is another slang from the northeastern region of Brazil and it’s used to show some love. For example, when I hug you, I will feel your scent because my nose will be very close to where you put perfume or etc. Xero is exactly this, when you feel someone’s scent while hugging them. It’s kinda like XoXo. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


	7. Eternal

Harry Potter was a happy man. For one, his training in South America had helped St. Mungos improve a stupendous number of techniques, not only in the Janus Thickey ward, but also with the severe burns caused by Incendio and Fiendfyre – that’s if the person was lucky enough to survive the curses. 

The biggest reason for his smile, however, was strolling with him through the entrance of the arena where the horse race was scheduled to begin in less than twenty minutes. 

Hermione Granger was a regular presence by his side whenever the Potters came to these kinds of events. This was the first time that they were officially a couple, though, and the raven-haired wizard couldn’t be happier. 

He wasn’t the jealous type, but there was something about being able to say the words: _‘my_ _girlfriend, Hermione Granger’_ that brought the biggest and stupidest of grins to his face. 

Harry had always considered himself a happy and lucky bloke – it ran in his blood, he supposed. The Halloween of 1981 being a prime example of this. But he had never felt like this before--just pure happiness rushing through his veins. He felt like no matter what happened, he’d still be the luckiest guy in the arena just to have his girl by his side. _His girl._ He liked that concept. 

“... and I can’t wait for the babies.”

Harry choked on his own saliva and put his hands on his thighs, coughing frantically while Hermione patted him on the back. 

“What?! Babies?!” he finally sputtered out, his voice going higher than he would have liked. He was sure he’d missed a vital piece of conversation.

Hermione was blushing furiously by his side, while his mother eyed him with a confused expression that turned into amusement when she realized what had occurred. 

Comprehension morphed into laughter, forcing her to hide her face in the crook of James’ neck to muffle it as her husband grinned at his daughter-in-law. 

“I can’t wait to buy my grandson his first broom.” 

Harry was sure he was beginning to look like Seamus Finnigan on the day of a quidditch match, when he’d cheer (and drink) like a mad-man for the Gryffindor team. 

“H-Hermione a-are you?” He whispered, trying not to show any emotion that could possibly give her a reason to smack the back of his head with a book she always seemed to have handy. 

“No! Merlin, Harry!” She whispered back, looking bewildered. “And if I was you’d be the first to know!” 

“Oh… sorry.” He said, ruffling his own hair. “What’s all that baby talk about?” 

“I was saying that the Head Girl and Head Boy from three years back are getting married. She’s just finished her apprenticeship in potions with me, and I can’t wait to have some babies to molly-coddle,” his mother repeated, amused. The auburn witch then turned to her husband, playfully glaring at him with her arms crossed against her chest. “And your father decided to see if he could kill you of embarrassment.”

“Thank you.” Harry grunted and took Hermione’s hand again, walking faster than the usual to get away from his meddling parents. “These two… it’s their hobby to embarrass me in public, I swear to Merlin.” 

Hermione laughed, looking at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So I take that you’re not ready to be a father yet?” 

“Well… I mean, I-... now you’re just being mean, aren’t you?” He stopped and looked at her, scowling and making her laugh outright at his behavior. He chuckled with her before he turned serious as he stared ahead, suddenly lost in thought. 

“No, but really… it’s not something that I _wish_ for at the moment, but if you get pregnant, we’ll figure it out. I think we have a bit of growing up to do before parenthood, especially now with our careers, but… I definitely don’t think it’d be the end of the world. I would like to be a father someday, but if it happened now… I mean, my parents worked their way out at twenty one. I’d say we would handle it pretty well.” 

Hermione felt as if her heart would explode. There she was, with her best friend and long time crush talking about how they would handle parenthood – while attending their first event as an official couple. 

How on earth things had changed so quickly? 

She had a wistful look on her face when she tugged his hand and turned to face him. 

“Harry… we need to talk.” 

As much as he tried, the raven-haired wizard couldn’t help look panicked at her pronouncement. 

“Okay…” 

“When I broke up with Oliver, I was over him. It hurt, yes, but I had no feelings towards him. I still don’t have any feelings for him.” They entered the VIP cabin of the Potters and sat on a bench near the mini-bar. “Lupin put me on assignment researching ancient Brazilian rituals and I was talking to Clarissa about it when she told me about a muggle custom from Brazil. Some people do it for fun, others for curiosity and some do it in desperation.” 

Harry had his eyebrows furrowed, but was waiting patiently as he looked into her cinnamon eyes. 

“The muggle fortune tellers claim that they have a ritual to bring back your missing love in seven days. It’s rubbish and I was skeptical about it– still kinda am, but I’ll get there. The point is, Clarissa convinced me to go with her to see how this played out. We decided that I would try the ritual, since I was the one who had recently had a breakup and Clarissa doesn’t get attached too easily. Well… it turns out that when she asked me to think about the one I loved, my memories of you came to the front of my mind. I think it was a way of my mind trying to warn me, and it turns out the ‘ritual’ just made me think about you.” 

She paused and waited for his reaction, but he remained calm. She sighed and continued on with the confession she had avoided for the past two weeks. 

“I thought nothing would happen, but after the seven days you came back all of a sudden, and everything started happening between us and I freaked out. I realized that the dates fit and tried desperately to use logic on why you would like me and whether it really was all because of a ritual and…” she sighed again, rubbing her temples and closing her eyes. “I guess I needed a reality check, and I ran after Mãe Marina – the muggle fortune teller – with Clarissa and it turns out she’s a squib. We had a very… revealing moment in the bathroom of a restaurant. It’s not like that, Harry!” She smacked his arm, seeing him waggle his eyebrows suggestively. Men, honestly. “Really, after all of this the only reaction I get is you poking fun at an unintentional innuendo?” 

He laughed so hard at her expression and pulled her to sit on a nearby bench, trying to gain composure. 

“I’m sorry, love. It’s just the fact that you went to a muggle fortune teller after your history with divination is something that I can’t wrap my head around without laughing.” 

She huffed and looked away, crossing her arms against her chest. 

“Come on, Hermione. You have to admit it’s funny,” Harry chuckled, caressing her arms and soothing her until she couldn’t hold her smile any longer. 

“Fine. Perhaps a little.”

“Ok, what revealing conversation did you have with this Mãe Marina?” 

“She told me that magic was about intent, and that the ritual didn’t force anything about our relationship, especially with such a long friendship like ours. And that magic may have recognized our feelings and just… made things easier for our relationship to happen.” 

“And you thought that our feelings were a product of a ritual?”

“No! I mean… no! Harry, you have to understand me. I’m a tough person to deal with. I find my solace in logic and books, and when something like that happened I freaked out. Not for a single moment did I doubt my feelings for you, but my mind started playing tricks on me and I hit a breaking point. I’m sorry. I really am. But you have to put yourself in my shoes.” 

“Hermione, breathe.” He held her gaze and helped her do the breathing exercises that his mother had taught him as a child. “I’m not mad at you. Slightly hurt that you could ever doubt my feelings, yes. But I’m not mad at you. I love you, and I hope that you never for one moment doubt that again.” 

She nodded as tears started to prickle her eyes and he kissed the top of her head. After a moment holding onto each other, he asked. 

“So… what moment do you think that magic used to recognize our feelings as true love?” 

“Well,” she sniffed and then shot her head up abruptly “I...wait a second.”

— • — 

_14th of June, 1997_

The sun was high up in the warm blue sky as the horses ran through the race track, making cheers erupt from the watching crowd. In the stands, several families watched without blinking an eye, hoping to win bets they had placed. One person, however, couldn’t take his eyes off the person sitting right by his side in the VIP cabin. 

She was wearing a periwinkle sun dress that hugged her waist and ended right below her knee, with the end of the skirt flowing a little with the wind. Her hair was braided to one side and she was wearing a hat, fanning her face frantically and blinking her eyelids repeatedly.

In his opinion, he had never seen something so beautiful. 

“Dear lord, what is with this heat? It seems like the wind only reaches my leg. My face is literally melting.” She murmured to him, while he sported a charming smile on his features. When the woman turned to him, she frowned. “You find this rather amusing, don’t you?”

“Why, of course, milady. Your presence amuses e every single day, I must admit,” the raven-haired boy cheekily responded, inclining his head in her direction as he whispered the words in her ear. She felt his lips brush her earlobe, making her tremble a bit. 

“Stop! You’re making me blush.” 

“Why should I stop? You rarely blush when I’m around, a fact that I find very insulting.” His lips stayed dangerously close to her ear and the light hair behind her neck stood up with the shudder that his words caused in her body.

“People are looking at us.”

“Don’t they always?” His gaze met with her chocolate brown eyes and her brain stopped functioning, heart beating like a drum. 

He began to incline his head in her direction and as they were about to kiss, a massive cheer erupted from the stands, pulling them apart. 

“I-I’ll go get some water. It’s hot... in here.” 

She stood up abruptly and made her way through the cabin, reaching the mini bar on the end of it. As she walked, the boy groaned and rested his head on his hands. 

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”

“Harry! Could you please behave yourself at least once in your life?” Lily Potter muttered through clenched teeth, trying to smile and wave for the curious eyes. 

“Sorry, mum,” he answered in a defeated tone. Lily noted how closely his eyes followed Hermione as she walked away. _Interesting_. 

“James…” she whispered in her husband’s ear, trying to get his attention. “James!” 

“What happened, love?”

“Can you talk to Harry? Something happened between him and Hermione and he sounds miserable. Please?” The red-headed woman said, blinking her eyes and tightening the grip on her husband’s arm.

“Fine. Just let me see if-“ he started, but was soon admonished by his wife when she noticed where he was looking at. 

“James! Your son is more important than a horse.”

The Potter patriarch stood up with a put-upon sigh and walked past Lily until he reached his son. He sat in the vacant spot by his side. He knew the seat belonged to Amelia, who was probably off somewhere with Sirius, doing Merlin knows what. Sighing once more, James crossed his legs and stared at the race again, trying to decide how to approach the big question with his son. When he felt the glare that Lily was sending his way, he decided to act. 

“Harry? What happened?” 

“Umm.. what?” His son blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what was going on around him while he daydreamed. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

James eyed him curiously, trying to read his features. It was a common situation lately: they were all together at someplace and then Hermione and Harry would drift apart and keep their distance for the rest of the evening.

“You’re thinking way too loud, aren’t you? Come on, tell me what happened.” He put his arm around Harry’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze. 

“I did something reckless and now I’m afraid I messed up. Big time.” The raven-haired wizard let out a breath, closing his eyes and rubbing the tip of his nose. 

“Is this the reason Hermione is on the other side of the cabin?” At Harry’s nod, James thought about his next sentence carefully. “Do you… want to talk about it?” 

“Umm… no, no, I think I’m fine.” James arched an eyebrow at his son’s quick response and looked past his shoulder, a plan forming in his mind. It couldn’t get more awkward than that. 

“Well, I don’t think you and Hermione could mess your friendship up in any way. You two are soulmates.”

Harry started to cough frantically, choking. 

“I’m sorry?”

James suppressed a smile, savoring Harry’s reaction like a fine old whiskey. If the problem with his relationship with Lily was his constant nagging to convince her to go out with him, Harry’s problem was completely the opposite. 

When the subject of Hermione Granger was brought up, nothing would make the boy admit or act on his feelings towards his best friend. 

“You know what I meant. And I think you should go there, she looks like she could use some help.” He pointed to the back of the cabin, where Hermione looked rather uncomfortable while the Hughes kid whispered something in her ear. 

“What?!” 

Without another word Harry jumped to his feet, walking towards Hermione with a determined look on his face. 

James smiled to himself and walked back to his seat next to Lily. 

“So…?”

“They’re going to be ok. Sit back and enjoy the race, love.” 

Hermione Granger rarely knew how to mask her feelings, and this was no different. The distaste was evident in her delicate features as Cillian Hughes, the youngest child of a British millionaire, whispered in her ear. 

She moved her head to the left, away from him, hoping he got the message.

_‘Hey! I don’t care about who you are or how many millions you have in your account, just let me drink my water alone.’_

He smiled in a way that she could only categorize as predatory, sending chills to her bones. 

“Umm, that’s great, Mr. Hughes. But I’m not interested, thank you.” She tried to say in a most polite way possible, trying to not make a scene in the cabin. 

The Potters were VIPs at the horse races every year, as James was a big investor. Since the summer after third year, Harry had invited her to come with them – a fact that caused some awkward moments when his muggle girlfriend was invited. Everyone had thought Hermione was his girlfriend, not Alana. 

During one of those occasions, when Amelia Bones squealed in delight and said that she knew Hermione and Harry would end up dating by the way they looked at each other, all hell had broken loose. The day had ended with a red-faced Harry huffing all the way back home after his girlfriend’s tantrum, and a mortified Hermione.

This year, however, was the first time that Cillian Hughes was invited. And as his mother was a colleague of Amelia Bones in the golf club, Hermione was trying to be as polite as possible to avoid any confrontations. 

“And why is that, babe? You know, I could buy you a very sexy dress for you to wear for me, seeing-“

“May I ask you _why_ you would be willing to spend your father’s money buying a dress for _my_ girlfriend, Mr. Hughes?” 

Hermione heard Harry before she saw him. In the next moment, he circled his arms around her waist from behind, and as his scent surrounded her, tension immediately left her shoulders. 

“What?! Look mate, I’m sorry. She didn’t tell me that she had a boyfriend. Girls these days, right…” Cillian let out a nervous laugh, taking two steps back. 

“If I were you, I’d apologize to Ms. Granger here and then I’d shut my mouth before I earned a punch in the face,” Harry spoke calmly while glaring at Cillian, before lowering his tone. “Because if I start beating the shit out of you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.” 

“I already apologized, mate, I’m sorry! I didn’t know she was yours.” Hermione felt Harry’s muscles tense and became alarmed. 

“Don’t come to me with that ‘mate’ shit, Hughes. It’s not to me that you should apologize. It’s to her. And even if she didn’t have a boyfriend, you should leave her alone. I think I’ve seen her profusely refuse all of your stupid attempts to hit on her.”

“I-I’m sorry, Ms. Granger. This won’t happen ever again.” 

“Move!” Harry spoke in a harder tone, making the excuse of a boy tremble and run away from them. 

As soon as he was out of their sight, Harry turned her to him and put his hands on her shoulders. “Alright there, Hermione?”

She felt her heartbeat increase under his strong gaze, shivering a little with the intensity of those green piercing eyes. After what felt like an eternity, she snapped out of her daze. 

“Never better.” Her smile faltered when she voiced her thoughts on the confrontation. “You didn’t need to say that, Harry. I could handle it myself.”

“Oh, I know that. But I needed to have some words with that git. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let him walk away like that. And, to be fair, I behaved myself quite well, don’t you think?” 

“And I thank you for that, I do. But you have to stop acting like…” Hermione trailed off, blushing and stopping in the middle of the sentence. “It’s just that I’m not some damsel in distress, Harry. I can handle it.” 

Her words echoed in his head _‘you have to stop acting like…’._ Like what? 

“You keep doing this and you won’t find a single girl to snog in these events.” Hermione tried to break the ice with an attempt of a joke after seeing the thoughtfulness in his features when she said that. Why did she say that, anyway? 

Her brain was a mess. She liked Harry and the thought of him snogging someone behind the stands was almost unbearable for her. But she was too afraid of making a move and having their friendship ending up a pile of dust. Then he’d do something like today, acting like an overprotective boyfriend, and her heart skipped a beat. 

On the other side, her rational self was telling her that it was better to warn him off his little flirtations because her heart wouldn’t take these little crumbs instead of a relationship. She knew he did it unconsciously, but it didn’t make things any easier later when he was off with another girl that wasn’t her. . 

It was a dilemma. 

“Oh, but that’s never stopped them. In their eyes, it makes me even more irresistible--they’re taking a bite of the forbidden fruit.” 

“Prat. You are incorrigible.” She slapped his arm playfully, trying to hold a laugh at his childish antics. 

“There’s no need to worry, Hermione. You know you’ll always be my girl.”

“Huhum..” 

“What did you say?” He asked with a lopsided grin. 

“Yes, you’re right.”

“Good. Because I am yours too.”

She melted in his embrace, forgetting just for a moment the war that was currently playing in her head. 

“Kids? Let’s go!” The voice of Sirius echoed in the cabin, making Mr. Hughes snigger. He started to walk in their direction and took down a semitone. “Enough fun for today. If your father spends a single minute alone with the Hughes kid I think he will take the matters into his own hand. Wait. Did I interrupt a moment here? Please tell me I didn’t, because I would never forgive myself.” 

“N-no! Of course not, Sirius.” 

“Stop teasing, Sirius.” Hermione reprimanded him, attempting to lighten up the awkward mood and put that little bit of her heart back in a box. 

That day, however, was the beginning of something new in the dynamic of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. 

They knew it was there, wanted to try, but were too afraid that something might happen and wreck their relationship. The two teenagers walked on a tightrope, flirting and joking around while masking the true feelings they felt for one another. 

But on that fateful summer day, magic had recognized their feelings. The truest form of love and adoration that they felt to one another, the waves of magic pulling one to the another. It was all about intent. 

It took only six years for Hermione Granger to realize it, but there was no better time than the present. 

— • —

“I can remember it now.” She said, looking up from the blank point she was staring at the wall and meeting those green eyes that she loved so much. “I can remember the first time that we confessed our love for each other.”

“I thought we all remembered that, Hermione. What are you-“

“No, no! It’s like you said that day, you have been loving me for years, and I’ve been doing the same. I must’ve had an epiphany that day during the ritual. We never spoke the three words before that day in the field, but here… I said I was yours and you told me you were mine.”

Harry Potter smiled and she saw such a tenderness in his features that she wanted to kiss him right there, without a care in the world. 

“That I am. I was yours six years ago, I am yours now, and I’ll be yours forever.” 

“Glad to see we’re on the same page, Potter.” She gave in to the urge and kissed him gently, circling her arms around his neck. They ended the kiss with small pecks on the lips and smiled into each other. “Although this sounded very much like a proposal.”

“What if it was?” He started to rub circles in her back, opening his eyes to meet with hers. 

“In a year… definitely yes. If you want to by then, of course. We have to get more used to this couple thing.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting anxiously for that day.” 

Hermione rested her head on his chest and sighed. “Alright there, Harry?” 

“Never better.” 

He kissed the top of her head as they melted into each other, oblivious to the smiling couple looking at them from the cabin seats. 

— • —

The sky was dark as raindrops soaked the blonde curls in her hair. She didn’t cast any spells to prevent the water from falling on top of her, not only to blend in the muggle background, but to also help hide her tears. 

Her eyes were puffy and red and she had a distraught appearance, walking aimlessly through the London sidewalks. She entered an alley and rested her back on the brick wall, sighing deeply. 

“Inhale...exhale,” she repeated religiously while trying to catch her breath. The palms of her hands reached her face and she tried to put her thoughts in order before heading home. It wouldn't do for her to arrive disheveled like this at the flat to get her things. What would the neighbors say? 

She might be a gossip, but she’d discovered very early on into her career that there were worse people than her in Diagon Alley, where she lived. 

The young woman suppressed a sob as her eyes met the flyer on the wall, protected from the rain by a little wooden shelf above. _What? Could this possibly work?_

She ran her fingers over the flyer and got the number, running to an alcove, and dialing it. 

“Hello, can I talk to Mãe Marina?” She started, trying to mask that she’d been crying and putting a finger in her other ear to drown out the sound of the raindrops. “Yes, yes. I’ve seen your flyer and I’d like to know if I could make an appointment with you. As soon as you can.”

She closed her eyes, catching her breath to speak. “I wish to bring my love back in seven days. Yes.”

The young woman smiled, desperate and hoping against all odds that this would work. 

“My name? Lavender. Lavender Brown.” 

_Finite._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we finished it! This is the first time i write and finish something besides one-shots, so i am pretty overwhelmed and happy. I didn’t think I could go with this story until the end, but I’m glad I did. It was a joy to show a little of my culture and fuse it with the Harry Potter world, and with the Harmony fanfiction world. All of that including one of my favorite tropes, the Jily Lives AU. There’s something about a rascal Harry with his cheeky remarks and bossy Hermione that always gets me. I’d like to thank Samantha and Coffee Reveries for their help at the beginning, to my beta sonofahorcrux – my guardian angel –, and to everyone that gave me a chance and thought my story was worthy of their time. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart. 
> 
> I have a lot of stories that I’d like to share with you, and I’ll try to work on a little idea that I had to put out on Halloween. Until then, please check my other stories (Dreamlover, Drunk On Love and cardigan.) 
> 
> To all my Harmony shippers out there – join us in the H.M.S. Harmony Discord Group! A wonderful place to us that love this couple. 
> 
> PS: Besides Clarissa, Mãe Marina and the Brazilian aunts, all of the characters and elements from the Wizarding World belong to J.K. Rowling. Thank you for letting us play in your sandbox, Jo!


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